Zombees and Chinsaws: A Quest of Total Radicalness
by P90 Freak14
Summary: Zombies began vanquishing the entity of the world, but a lone man rises up and retaliates against them. Filled with an assortment of suspense, plot, character development, and more, this story will always make you aspire to acquire more text.
1. CHAPTER 1: ALAS POOR BYSTANDER

(**Author's Note: **Salutations! I would like to provide the whole of everyone whom lays their eyes upon my writing a rather consumptuous "Thank you". There is simply no need to have never read this writing. It is simply the best piece of literature ever written, and thus I would like to thank whomever has a taste in literature to whom decides to read this, even if you find the entity acatalectic.)

**Chapter 1: ALAS POOR BYSTANDER**

In a similar manner to turbulent automobiles, the chlorochrous creatures converged upon the customary bystander. Acting apprehensive, he attempted to retaliate with his bare fists. Alas, the zymosis of a bite has taken its toll. Whomever the person was, I have planned to make myself appear as if I were an autothaumaturgist.

"HUZZAH! IT IS I, SUPERO RJ MCAWESOMEZOMBEEKILLA, THE AMAZING ZOMBIE KILLER. I AM HERE TO BEAR YOUR BURDENS AND CONDEMN YOU TO REST UPON YOUR LIFE," I abstained. The impudent trepidation disported by the abhorred undead was revealed. My slick, brown, cowlicked quills that rest on the summit of my crown shone as I graciously leaped radically using my two limbs, both of which look battle-worn, and yet still irresistible to the damsels for which I knew, and I appeared from oblivion. My virility was evident if one were to gander at my amazing muscles, for many zombies I have encountered, and yet, I still survive. Hidden I was, and hidden I have still remained. There was no way my plans could have folded incorrectly.

A P90 (**AN**: That occurs to be the rifle that engrosses my fancy the most, especially whilst playing any Call of Duty game) in one hand, and a Coca-colain the other, I have made my mere debut in this calamity. Pulling the trigger, I heard the spitting of the firearm rapidly. Yes. It is simply beautiful. This is music to my ears. The death of zombies.

"OH MY GOD SUPERO YOU ARE SOOOO AMAZING!" shouted an indistinct, high-pitched squeal. It was a woman, I was certain. Unless...

Oh god no. It is he. That ugly prick Armando.

(**The Subsequent Author's Note: **Reiteratively would I like to say "Thank you" for applying the time to assimilate your ocular orbs to this prose. Alas, I chose to be the scribe of rather laconic writing, and yet I still remain gallant. If it would not concern you, please feel free to donate a review to me, it would be appreciated. My forthcoming chapter will be written by me, but I may handover the subsequent minority over to my acquaintances. So long.)


	2. CHAPTER 2: ARMANDO TAKE YOUR LEAVE

Absconded, I would greatly enjoyed for him to obtain. His audacity is laughable, his presence annoying. To bring him to justice is a sin to many other's eyes, but I know it is a must. "Armando, please vamoose from this locality and presume an action elsewhere," I indicated as smartly and swiftly as a whip. With grace came out my voice, ringing in an identical manner as to the sounds of skylarks whom domain within the realm of the sky, the sounds of aardvarks whom descent upon prairies, and within the Ocean Blue's tyrannical tirades the fish dwell. I, Supero Russell Jr. McAwesomeZombeeKilla, comprehend all there is to this world and its indestructible systems. Alas, a mere child am I, and at the age of 13, none would want to hark my vocality.

A murder I have committed. I killed the obnoxious entity; for it was a noble deed. His corpse emitted a ruby colored flare that smelled of rafflesia. I pierced my eyes within the aborted abortion's eyes. Even though his brain has obviously been removed, his eyes still twitched from my piercing glare. I am amazing, I thought, thinking of the truth.

It was then I noticed that the Lunch Zone within the streets of Russia has been overdriven by vile zombies. A friend of mine, whose name is Nikolai, currently resides in the frigid, intelligent, and amazing, enormous, and amazing country.

"CONSUME THIS BARLEY YOU INCANDESCENT ZOMBEES," I growled to the zombees. Everyone cheered as I committed genocide to the en masse of the entailed sodomizers. Traditional Russian music began playing. "I must remind you that this music is utterly blood-curling. I would much prefer it if you played real music, like Lil' Wayne or something,"

"RJ, we all shall comprehend to your orders; for you are now the Tzar of Russia!" everyone chanted in unison. Then, "Lollipop" actuated its playing; for it is an old song that the uncivilized rustic Russians have newly acquired access to, but it's still cool, yo. But at least russians have AK47's. Suddenly, I received a contacting message from the damsel with whom I wish to have a full life.

"OMG RJ YOUR SO HOT I LOVE YOU LOL" she inscribed to me through her cellular device. Alas, her lack of comprehending grammar was depressing, but I truly love the beauty. Alas, I have fallen into the allure of such a damsel. "Yolo!" I shouted. It is an important tradition for me to state those words, "You Only Live Once". I fear that they hold utter importance towards the matter upon my grasp.


End file.
